Sensibility how charming,
Dearest Nancy, thou canst tell;
But distress with horrors arming,
Thou hast also known too well.—

Fairest flower, behold the lily,
Blooming in the sunny ray.
Let the blast sweep o'er the valley,
See it prostrate on the clay.—

Hear the woodlark charm the forest,
Telling o'er his little joys:
Hapless bird! a prey the surest
To each pirate of the skies.—

Dearly bought the hidden treasure,
Finer Feelings can bestow:
Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure,
Thrill the deepest notes of woe.—